


piece by piece

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Series: my heart's root [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: ???? i dont know, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Chaotic Domesticity, Established Relationship, Fluff, House Guests, M/M, Riding, That's about it tbh, Weaponised domesticity, by which i mean they are chaos entities and are domestic, i don't really know how else to tag this honestly, slightly psychological torture by way of very loud sex, trust me on that, wow some normal tags lmao ok now some slutty ones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22599625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: ‘I’m sorry?’‘You sure are,’ Laurent agreed, ‘because if you’d looked any further down than my face, you’d have seen the very obvious rings on my finger.’Jord looked down, and the way his eyes widened again was almost comical. ‘You’re engaged?’‘Count them, that’s two rings. I’m married.’‘Married?’ Jord scoffed. ‘To who?’‘To me,’ Damen said, appearing at Laurent’s shoulder.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Series: my heart's root [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593976
Comments: 39
Kudos: 373





	piece by piece

**Author's Note:**

> hello! part two, as promised! considering i said uh, like a month ago it would be a few days? 😬 yikes. anyway. it here. all good.
> 
> first, assume any full sentences in italics are in akielon bc i am far too lazy to specify that in a speech tag every time.
> 
> second, title is unrelated, except that it follows the trend of part one of this and is the english translation of petti fyri petti by eivør.
> 
> oh yeah, third, you probably don't need to read part one to understand this? but it might be easier if you do so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ that's really up to you lol.

Like every day for the past year, Laurent woke up in Damen’s arms. It still seemed crazy to him that things had moved as fast as they had, but he wouldn’t have changed anything. Damen had been flying up to Arles from Ios as often as he could for the year and a half it took Laurent to finish grad school, he’d proposed after a year of dating, and their wedding had been a year later, after Laurent moved and started his new job at the Archaeological Museum of Ios. Six months of marriage since, and he’d never been happier.

As always, Damen seemed to know exactly when Laurent woke, nuzzling into his neck to place a soft kiss there. ‘Morning, husband.’

Laurent smiled into his pillow shifting back further into Damen’s chest. ‘Morning, husband,’ he replied. The word still gave him butterflies. Maybe that was why they kept saying it.

‘Time is it?’

Laurent lifted his head to turn his phone over, groaning and rolling around in Damen’s arms to face him, pushing his face into his shoulder. ‘Too early.’

‘Six?’

‘Six thirty.’

‘Gross. Why are we awake?’

‘Because it’s Friday and the universe is fucking with us before the long weekend.’

Damen hummed, tightening his arms around Laurent for a moment. ‘But four extra days – a whole _week_ _–_ of having you to myself will make it worth it, I think.’

‘Mm, maybe,’ Laurent sighed. ‘I need to get up soon.’

‘Or, a thought, do you want to get up now and take a long shower? I’ll even wash your hair so you can zone out for a few minutes.’

Laurent opened his eyes and looked up to Damen. ‘See, this is why I married you.’

‘Because I basically just said you need to shower?’

‘Because… yes. No. Look, it’s too early for me to figure this out. You can wash my hair.’

Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘You know I’m only suggesting it so you’ll have to return the favour, right?’

Laurent hummed and reached up to comb his fingers through Damen’s hair. It had grown out since they’d met, now closer to what Damen claimed it used to be. It almost touched his shoulders and made a small but stable bun, even letting Laurent braid it if he asked nicely. ‘I’m okay with that.’

‘Good,’ Damen pecked Laurent’s forehead and began the process of untangling them. Laurent was clingy in the mornings sometimes. ‘I’ll go start the shower. You can make your way in, right?’

‘Hopefully,’ Laurent said, pushing up onto his elbows to watch the vague shape of Damen walk past in the still dark of the morning. Even in the middle of winter with an apartment that wasn’t always the warmest in the mornings, he still only wore those damn boxer briefs that had almost killed Laurent on their first night together.

Laurent, however, was more sensibly dressed, in a shirt of Damen’s and some fading plaid pyjama pants. It also meant he had more layers to shed on the way to the bathroom, but true to his word, Damen had started the shower and it was already steaming up the room when he got there.

After they got engaged, Laurent and Damen had decided to get an apartment _together_ , instead of living between their own. The style was largely the same – they had the same taste, after all – with minimalist painted walls, and hard wood flooring instead of tile, with the exception of the bathroom. The master bedroom was large and had floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the sea, with an ensuite that did the same, and a couple of other bedrooms for guests.

Laurent had arranged for _many_ more plants to be in this apartment, some of his art from Arles, and all of his books. It made for an almost overwhelming number of bookshelves and green leaves, but that was exactly how Damen and Laurent had decided they wanted it.

Damen was already covered in soap bubbles by the time Laurent got to the bathroom, smiling as he stepped into the spray.

This was probably one of Laurent’s favourite things they did together. Early morning and late-night showers together were a sacred space. It was quiet, unhurried and murmured words, gentle touches as they moved around each other, and the occasional soft kiss tinged with the taste of soap or shampoo or someone’s facial cleanser.

Damen handed Laurent the basil lemon shower gel he’d become surprisingly fond of, and they washed in silence, except for Damen humming the latest song to be stuck in his head.

‘You good?’ Damen asked, poised with Laurent’s shampoo in hand.

Laurent rinsed the last of the bubbles from his skin and nodded, turning his back to Damen. ‘Be careful.’

‘I know,’ Damen said.

Laurent’s hair being pulled was mostly not a problem anymore, but he _had_ just got his ears pierced. He’d been in the tattoo studio with Damen, who was stopping by to visit his friend, Nik, a tattooist, and their conversation had been taking too long. The studio’s piercer was free, and seeing as Damen – aka, Laurent’s self-control – was busy, he arrived back at Damen’s side a few minutes later with a couple of deep sapphire studs in. They were almost completely healed, but Laurent was still paranoid of getting hair stuck around them, after the first night when he’d forgotten they were there and almost pulled them straight out of head after exactly that had happened.

But Laurent didn’t need to worry, he knew he didn’t. Damen was never anything but gentle when he washed his hair, combing his fingers through to distribute the shampoo and conditioner, lightly rubbing Laurent’s scalp and almost making him fall back asleep as he stood. He dutifully rinsed his hair when directed, then they moved on to finish showering.

Laurent wrapped himself in the towel Damen handed him, leaning up for a quick kiss, before Damen left to go start breakfast while Laurent dressed and dealt with his hair. It was going back and into a braid today. Laurent couldn’t find the strength in himself to deal with a blow dryer.

Once dressed, he found Damen in the kitchen in sweatpants – _just_ sweatpants – as he made pancakes and brewed coffee.

‘Aren’t you cold?’ Laurent asked, coming up behind him to wrap his arms around him, pushing his face to Damen’s shoulder blade. He was wearing a thick woollen sweater, and it seemed to be his only choice to stave off his husband’s impending hypothermia.

‘Nope. I’m standing at a stove, the heater is on, and now I have a warm octopus on me. I’m good.’

Laurent hummed. ‘There better be banana in those pancakes.’

‘Who do you think I am?’ Damen asked, looking back over his shoulder as he moved around the kitchen like Laurent wasn’t even there. ‘Coffee?’

‘Who do you think I am?’ Laurent mocked, taking the cup Damen slid into his line of vision on the bench. He detached and cradled the mug, leaning against the bench to watch Damen.

Gods, he loved to watch Damen. Call it sappy or whatever, but Laurent still found himself in disbelief that Damen was _his_.

‘They’re done,’ Damen announced, turning around with two plates of pancakes in his hands. ‘Sit.’

Laurent drifted across to the stools at the bench and grabbed the maple syrup before Damen could object, pouring it over his stack as soon as it was set down. ‘You’re my favourite husband,’ he said, handing Damen the syrup and kissing his cheek.

‘I hope I’m also your only husband.’

‘For now,’ Laurent said, shoving pancake ungracefully into his mouth. It was too early for graceful.

‘I was sort of aiming for forever, but I’ll take what I can get,’ Damen said. ‘Do you want me to drive you to work? It looks like it’ll be too cold to walk.’

Laurent hummed as he looked out the window. It was still pretty dark outside, and Laurent remembered hearing something in the weather forecast about a week of rain. ‘That would be good, I think.’

‘Good. Finish your pancakes.’

‘We only just sat down, give me a moment,’ Laurent rolled his eyes, but loaded more pancake into his mouth, glaring pointedly at Damen. ‘It’s like you want to get rid of me.’

‘I wouldn’t have married you if I wanted to get rid of you,’ Damen said, passing the syrup back to Laurent, who poured more onto his plate. ‘Just the sooner you get to work, the sooner you come back, and the sooner I have you to myself.’

Laurent hummed, swallowing his mouth of pancakes. ‘I do like the sound of that.’

‘A whole week,’ Damen mused. ‘However will we fill the time?’

‘I have a few ideas,’ Laurent said, leaning over and placing a hand lightly on Damen’s thigh suggestively, looking up at him from under his lashes. ‘Beginning with you making me a travel mug of coffee to take into work.’

Damen groaned, his leg twitching under Laurent’s hand. ‘You’re bad.’

‘Well, if I’ve been _bad –_ ’

‘Laurent, don’t you dare dangle that particular carrot in front of me, because you’ll never make it to work.’

Laurent laughed, leaning back in his chair and away from Damen. ‘Okay, okay,’ he said, going back to his pancakes.

They finished off their food with only a few whispered words, before it was time for Laurent to finish getting ready to leave. Damen followed him to the bedroom to grab a shirt, hands on Laurent’s hips like they were part of a conga line, until they reached the bedroom, where he tackled him onto the messy sheets of the bed.

‘ _Damen_ ,’ Laurent giggled as Damen got his hands under his shirt and sweater and to his ribs, tickling viciously. ‘I have to go to work – _Damen –_ you know that’s not fair!’

‘Take the day,’ Damen said, peppering kisses over Laurent’s cheeks. ‘Call in sick.’

‘I can’t call in sick, I’m about to have a week off,’ Laurent said, smiling up at Damen as he stopped and hovered over him. ‘It’s not even a long day, I leave early for the holiday.’

‘What, six hours?’

‘Yep.’

‘Six hours too long,’ Damen said, letting out a deep sigh and resting his head on Laurent’s shoulder. ‘I’ll bring you lunch.’

‘Okay, deal,’ Laurent said, turning his head to kiss Damen’s cheek. ‘Now, get off me before you make me late.’

‘It’s not even eight yet.’

‘Yeah, and I start at eight thirty. Go put a shirt on or I’m never going to leave.’

‘Maybe that’s my grand plan.’

‘What, making me lose my job so you can have your wicked way with me instead?’

‘Maybe. It’s a good plan, isn’t it?’ Damen hummed, pressing a kiss to Laurent’s neck. ‘Besides, they’d never fire you. They love you at the museum.’

‘They won’t if I’m _late_ ,’ Laurent said, half-heartedly pushing against Damen’s side. He was starting to lose his willpower and considering calling in sick. Would it really be that bad?

‘Fine,’ Damen said, rolling off him. ‘You might need to fix your hair.’

‘What did you do to it?’

‘Nothing too horrible. It’s just not…’

‘Neat?’

‘Not as neat as usual, no.’

Laurent narrowed his eyes at Damen as he sat up, grabbing a pillow and slapping Damen’s stomach with it. ‘Rude.’

‘I mean, I’d still do you,’ Damen said, smiling fondly as he hugged Laurent’s pillow to himself. ‘Even with your hair in that state.’

‘Shut up.’ Laurent leaned over to kiss him again. ‘Put on a shirt. We need to leave soon.’

‘Fine, fine,’ Damen said, watching Laurent as he went into their wardrobe for shoes. ‘Those pants make your butt look great.’

Laurent took a deep breath and steadfastly ignored him as he put on a pair of boots – something he’d never even owned until he met Damen, but were now becoming a staple in his wardrobe.

‘You’re going to ignore my comment about your butt?’ Damen asked, pulling a hoodie on over his head as he went to watch Laurent fix his hair.

‘I know my ass looks good,’ Laurent said simply, taking out his braid and combing his fingers through his hair. ‘It always looks good.’

‘That’s true.’

‘Coffee?’ Laurent asked, looking to Damen in the mirror. ‘Travel mug? Please?’

Damen looked to him, humming consideringly for a moment. ‘What will you give me?’

‘My everlasting love?’

‘I’ll take it,’ Damen said, dropping a kiss to his shoulder. ‘Coffee. The big mug?’

‘Please.’

***

Damen had dropped Laurent off with the biggest travel mug they owned, full of freshly brewed coffee, made perfectly as Laurent liked it. He’d tried to convince Laurent at least three more times on the short drive to the museum to call in sick, but had dropped it once they got to his work, and instead promised to be there with lunch.

The day had been slow, honestly. Just a lot of paperwork that kept Laurent cooped up in his office for the morning, counting down until Damen arrived. He brought him lunch more often than not, if he wasn’t working a lunch shift at the restaurant or doing something else with his time. He was thinking of opening another restaurant, but one that was mostly Veretian cuisine, which he’d become a little attached to while he was up in Arles with Laurent.

Damen had been experimenting lately with a book of Veretian recipes that Hennike, Laurent’s mother, had given him for the previous Christmas, so his takes on dishes Laurent had grown up with made up a sizeable portion of the lunches and dinners Damen made for him. He’d been throwing dinner parties for their friends a lot recently as well, just so he could inflict them on other people.

Laurent didn’t mind, though. Everything Damen made was delicious, and he couldn’t wait to see what he’d turn up with for lunch today.

He was watching the clock on his computer like a hawk, counting down until he thought Damen might show up. He was a little surprised when he got a call to his office phone, though – usually Damen would just text him or walk in, not have someone call him.

‘Laurent,’ he answered, squinting at his screen as he read the form in front of him.

‘Hey, Laurent, there’s someone here to see you?’ Kashel. She worked at information in the foyer.

‘If it’s Damen, just tell him to come through.’

‘It’s not Damen.’

Laurent paused and frowned. ‘Who is it?’

‘He says his name is Jord?’ Kashel said. It sounded like she was whispering. ‘Do you know him? I can call security if it’s a stalker or something.’

_Jord._ The name was definitely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. ‘What does he look like?’

‘Medium height, blond – sandy blond, not you blond.’

‘Oh,’ Laurent hummed. Jord. Auguste’s friend, Jord. The Jord Laurent had reluctantly gone on exactly two dates with before doing his best to end any and all expectations Jord held. He had no idea why Jord was here when they hadn’t even talked in… at least five years. Maybe six. Possibly even seven – yeah, probably seven. ‘Okay. Did he say why he was here?’

‘Nope. Secret boyfriend?’

Laurent laughed. ‘You’ve met my husband. You think I _need_ a secret boyfriend?’

‘People do strange things, Laurent. I’ll let him know you’re coming.’

‘Yep, be there in a second,’ Laurent said, hanging up his phone.

As he made his way through to the foyer, Laurent ran over every single reason Jord could be here. They had gone on their two dates before Laurent met Torveld, when Laurent was only nineteen and fresh to the world of dating. The dates had been horrible, awkward and weird things that were worse than how his relationship had ended up with Torveld. Laurent had tried about six times to friendzone Jord gently, before he finally gave up and put it very bluntly, leading to Jord cussing him out and storming from the party they were attending at Auguste’s house.

That had been the last time they’d seen each other. And now he was here.

_Why_ was he here?

Laurent stopped past the information desk on his way to finding Jord. ‘Hey,’ Laurent drummed his fingers on the desk to get Kashel’s attention. ‘Has he said anything else?’

Kashel looked up and shook her head. ‘Just said thanks and went into the atrium. You didn’t invite him here, did you?’

‘I haven’t talked to him since well before Damen,’ Laurent said, glancing to the atrium and trying to spot Jord. He couldn’t really even remember what he looked like.

‘Not a friend of yours?’

‘My brother’s. We went on a couple of dates.’

‘Oh?’

‘It ended badly.’

‘Oh.’ Kashel’s fingers twitched towards the phone. ‘I can still call security if you need me to.’

‘No, it’s fine. Damen’s been teaching me wrestling.’

Kashel grinned wickedly. ‘Oh, I _bet_ he has.’

‘We’re in a professional environment, you’re not allowed to imagine what happens in my marital bedroom,’ Laurent said drily. ‘What’s he wearing?’

‘Uh, blue jacket, blue jeans.’

‘Lovely. Thanks.’

‘Have fun,’ Kashel said in a sing-song voice, watching Laurent as he headed to the atrium.

He’d always liked the atrium. It was less of an exhibition room, and more of just… kind of a greenhouse. They had plant specimens from up and down Akielos in this room, with a waterfall and small pond with lilies in the middle. Benches dotted the edges, under towering palms that reached the full height of the atrium towards the glass ceiling. The second-floor balcony that ran the edges of the atrium was mostly empty, as it would be in the middle of a Friday morning, and so were most of the benches, except for one.

Blue jacket, blue jeans.

‘Jord,’ Laurent greeted, still a fair few feet from his bench. Now closer, he remembered Jord a little more clearly.

Jord turned at the greeting, and his eyes went wide when they landed on Laurent. ‘Laurent?’ he asked, standing and tugging on the edges of his jacket.

‘That’s me,’ Laurent said, coming to a stop. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘You look… incredible,’ Jord said.

_Good start._ ‘Thanks,’ Laurent replied awkwardly, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘You haven’t changed.’

Jord laughed, scrubbing a hand through his short hair. ‘Yeah, if something’s not broke, don’t fix it, right?’

‘I guess, yeah,’ Laurent cleared his throat. ‘What are you doing in Ios?’

‘I moved here a few weeks ago for work.’

‘Oh, cool, congrats! Doing what?’

‘Uh, I’m still a software engineer, so.’

_Right._ This conversation was going terribly. ‘Wow, yeah, cool.’

‘Yeah.’

Laurent nodded, waiting for something more from Jord. Nothing came. ‘Right, okay, so what are you doing _here_?’

Jord blinked in confusion. ‘I just –’

‘No,’ Laurent interrupted. ‘Here in the museum. Where I work.’

‘Oh!’ Jord smiled in realisation. ‘Right, sorry. I wanted to see if you wanted to get a drink.’

‘I don’t drink.’

‘Of course, sorry. Coffee? Tea? A milkshake?’ Jord suggested. ‘We could get food, even, if you want.’

Laurent frowned. He couldn’t be suggesting..? ‘Like a date?’

‘Absolutely.’

_Seriously?_ ‘Do you remember what happened last time we went on a date?’

‘Well, it was a long time ago –’

‘And yet, I still have a very distinct memory of you calling me an entitled bitch,’ Laurent said flatly. ‘Cold-hearted, too, right?’

‘I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that.’

‘I’m very good at holding grudges.’

‘Clearly,’ Jord sighed. ‘I should apologise for that.’

‘Should?’

‘ _Will_ , I will apologise. I’m sorry for being rude to you all those years ago.’

‘I’m sure. Is that it?’

‘Is that a yes?’ Jord asked hopefully. ‘A maybe? A no?’

‘Depends how you’re going to act if I say no. Are you going to curse at me again?’

‘Are we going to find out?’

‘We are,’ Laurent said, as he raised an eyebrow.

‘Well, I know things didn’t end well between us, but I thought I remembered you saying something about it not being the best time for us, that you weren’t ready,’ Jord sighed. ‘So I thought I’d try my luck.’

‘First off, I said that to let you down gently,’ Laurent said, unimpressed. ‘Secondly, what makes you think I wouldn’t already be dating someone?’

‘Well, you’re not, are you? You couldn’t be. You’re… you.’

Laurent narrowed his eyes, his hands moving to his hips. He probably looked like his mother right about now. ‘And what the hell is that supposed to mean, Jord?’

‘You’re… you know. Cold. Emotionally unavailable. Mean.’

‘And what, you’re the one man that can tame me and make me none of those things, are you?’

‘I’d be willing to give it a go, yeah.’

Laurent made a noise of disgust. ‘Do you hear yourself?’

‘What?’ Jord asked, affronted. ‘You can just say no to a date without being rude, Laurent.’

‘Gods, you really are incredibly narcissistic, aren’t you? Bringing this back to your feelings and dating, huh?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You sure are,’ Laurent agreed, ‘because if you’d looked any further down than my face, you’d have seen the very obvious rings on my finger.’

Jord looked down, and the way his eyes widened again was almost comical. ‘You’re engaged?’

‘Count them, that’s two rings. I’m married.’

‘Married?’ Jord scoffed. ‘To who?’

‘To me,’ Damen said, appearing at Laurent’s shoulder. _‘What’s going on?’_ he asked in murmured Akielon, sliding a hand to Laurent’s hip and gently prying his fingers from the fabric of his sweater.

_‘Perfect timing. I’m being propositioned,’_ Laurent replied. _‘This is Jord.’_

_‘Who’s Jord?’_

_‘We went on two dates before I met Torveld, I tried to…’_

_‘Friendzone?’_

_‘Friendzone,’_ Laurent repeated, nodding. _‘Thank you. I tried to friendzone him at least five times, and eventually it ended with him yelling and swearing at me.’_

Damen looked up to glare at Jord. ‘Are you propositioning my husband?’

Jord balked. ‘I asked him out for coffee?’

‘Why?’

‘Auguste told me to. I said I was moving here, he told me to look Laurent up at this museum.’

‘Did he happen to mention I was married?’ Laurent asked. ‘Or did you assume I would be waiting for you like a war widow?’

‘I… are you going to yell if I say yes?’

‘This is my workplace, so I won’t yell, but I will tell you I’m yelling on the inside.’

Jord nodded. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know, okay? You didn’t say anything, either.’

‘Yeah, I was a bit busy fending off your _compliments_.’

‘Compliments?’ Damen asked.

_‘He called me cold, emotionally unavailable and mean,’_ Laurent said, spotting the bag in Damen’s hand. ‘Oh, lunch?’

‘Lunch,’ Damen confirmed. ‘A take on that chicken _a l’orange_ Hennike was telling me about yesterday.’

‘You were talking to my mother yesterday?’

‘Yeah, we Skyped while I made those pastries.’

‘Of course, you did,’ Laurent muttered, turning back to Jord. ‘If there’s nothing else, my lunch is getting cold.’

‘I’m going to preface this by apologising again for this whole… conversation, really, but I actually was wondering if you know any places that aren’t totally booked out for the holidays?’ Jord said awkwardly. ‘I was meant to have an apartment by now, but the person moving out, uh, hasn’t, and I can’t find anywhere to stay.’

Laurent softened. Oh. ‘Your hotel won’t let you extend?’

‘No, they’re booked out. The – is there a festival coming up?’

‘Yeah, winter festival. Starts tomorrow,’ Damen said, looking down warily to Laurent. _‘No.’_

_‘Damen, we have a spare room,’_ Laurent said. ‘When is your apartment going to be ready?’

‘A week, tops. I only need somewhere for a few nights, which is all I can afford, honestly.’

_‘No,’_ Damen said again.

_‘Damen,’_ Laurent sighed. _‘No more than a week.’_

_‘I only have you to myself for a week.’_

_‘I doubt he’ll be in the apartment the whole day every day.’_

_‘Laurent, you don’t need to adopt every stray Veretian you find in this city.’_

_‘But I know this one. He’s just moved here, and he doesn’t know anyone.’_

_‘Laurent –’_

_‘I’ll make you a deal,’_ Laurent suggested. _‘Two weeks. We can do anything you want.’_

_‘In what context?’_

_‘Any context,’_ Laurent said, raising an eyebrow, hoping Damen got his point.

_‘Starting when?’_ Damen asked slowly. He’d gotten it.

_‘Today.’_

_‘Babe, you don’t even like this guy.’_

_‘I… yeah, okay, but we have the room, and he’s not that bad when he’s being… okay,’_ Laurent finished awkwardly. Fuck Jord saying he was mean; he was a nice person.

‘Gods help me, it’s like being married to a fucking saint,’ Damen heaved a reluctant sigh. ‘You can stay with us,’ he said, pointing an accusing finger at Jord. ‘On three conditions.’

‘Okay, sure,’ Jord nodded.

‘First, it’s a week at _most_. I don’t care if your apartment isn’t ready, you leave after a week. Second, I am not happy about this and that won’t change. Third, you buy your own food unless explicitly offered ours,’ Damen took a step forward. ‘And I shouldn’t even need to say it, but stop flirting with my husband. Clear?’

‘Crystal,’ Jord agreed.

‘Good. Someone will send you the address. It won’t be me.’

‘Fair, sounds good,’ Jord nodded.

‘We’re going now,’ Damen said flatly, tugging on Laurent’s hand. ‘Food’s getting cold.’

‘It’ll still be amazing,’ Laurent said, looking back over his shoulder to glance at Jord. ‘You can go,’ he called. ‘We’ll see you later.’

‘Thank you!’ Jord said, giving him a thumbs up.

‘Why did you do that?’ Damen asked, as soon as they were back in Laurent’s office. ‘You clearly don’t like him.’

Laurent frowned, even as Damen set a container of beautifully presented food in front of him. ‘I can’t let him spend an exorbitant amount of money on a hotel here while it’s the winter festival. And it’s not that I don’t like him, he’s just… oblivious sometimes. He was always nice, I just really wasn’t into him, and apparently he never really accepted it.’

Damen hummed, handing Laurent some cutlery. ‘So basically, I’m going to end up fighting him for your attention for a week.’

Laurent sighed as he poked the chicken with his fork. ‘There’s no contest, Damen.’

‘There better not be.’

‘There isn’t,’ Laurent said softly. ‘You’re my unicorn, remember?’

Damen looked up from staring critically at his own plating, giving Laurent a small smile. ‘Unicorn.’

‘Unicorn.’

‘Okay,’ Damen cut into the chicken. ‘Fine, but I’m still not happy about it.’

‘Neither am I. I can’t believe – I need to call Auguste.’

Damen groaned. ‘During lunch?’

‘It’ll be short!’ Laurent said, cutting off some chicken quickly and shoving it in his mouth, letting out a small moan as the flavours hit. ‘Oh, wow, that’s really good.’

‘Right?’

‘It’ll be a really short call,’ Laurent said, dialling his brother’s number and balancing the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he cut the chicken again.

‘Hello?’ Auguste greeted. ‘I’m in the middle of lunch.’

‘Bitch, me too,’ Laurent said, putting down his knife and holding his phone as he ate instead. ‘And yet, Jord just showed up to the museum.’

‘Oh, did he? I told him to find you there.’

‘Yeah, that’s why I’m calling. Why did you do that?’

‘Do what?’

‘Tell him to ask me out for coffee.’

‘I thought he could use a friend.’

‘Auguste, he interpreted that as a coffee date. Like,’ Laurent shoved some rice in his mouth, ‘a romantic coffee date.’

‘What?’ Auguste asked, laughing in disbelief. ‘Why would he do that?’

‘Did you happen to mention I was married at any point in your conversation?’

‘It was – _no_ , it was a three-line conversation, Laurent.’

‘Probably could’ve made it a four-line conversation then, huh? He needs somewhere to stay and now he’s going to be in my guestroom. So you need to send him my address so I don’t have to.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. Damen’s not happy.’

‘Are you?’

‘Why would I be happy?’ Laurent asked. ‘Last time we talked, he called me an entitled bitch.’

‘He did what?’ Damen asked sharply. ‘Just now?’

‘Like seven years ago,’ Laurent said soothingly. ‘He apologised.’

‘Men are entitled babies,’ Damen muttered.

‘Sure are,’ Laurent agreed. ‘Anyway, thanks for this gift, Auguste.’

‘Yeah, no problem.’

Damen held his hand out for the phone, eyebrows raised. _Please?_ he mouthed.

‘Damen wants to say something, I’ll talk to you later,’ Laurent handed the phone over, digging into his food enthusiastically.

‘Hey Auguste,’ Damen greeted, ‘I just wanted you to know that you’ve ruined the winter festival for me. I had plans to fuck your brother for the next week while he has it off, and now we can’t do that because we’ll have a house guest. So, thanks for that.’

There was a loud screech that Laurent heard through the phone, and Damen handed it back.

‘He hung up,’ Damen said simply.

‘Well, he probably didn’t need to know that.’

‘It was payback.’

Laurent hummed. ‘Fair.’

***

‘I love you,’ Damen said, as they headed to their front door to let Jord in later that day. ‘But I need you to know that I hate you right now.’

‘That’s okay,’ Laurent nodded. ‘I hate me too.’

‘Maybe we can have some fun though.’

‘Oh?’

‘Two weeks of anything I want?’ Damen pointedly flicked his eyes up and down Laurent. ‘Noise.’

‘Noise?’

‘We both know you’re going to try and be quiet in bed.’

‘Oh?’

‘You’re not allowed to.’

Laurent narrowed his eyes. ‘Mean.’

‘Punishment fits the crime, baby,’ Damen said, opening the door to Jord and a pair of large suitcases. ‘You found us.’

‘I did!’ Jord grinned.

‘Great,’ Damen muttered, turning around to head for the bedrooms. ‘Follow me. We technically have two guestrooms, but one’s a home office, so you don’t really have a choice, unless you want to sleep on the couch.’

‘No, totally good with the only guestroom,’ Jord turned to look at Laurent behind him. ‘How do you two afford to rent a three-bedroom apartment this high up a building in this part of town?’

‘Simple,’ Damen said, waving grandly into the guestroom. ‘We don’t rent.’

‘You own this place?’

‘I own two restaurants and I’m planning a third, and we both have trust funds. We can afford an apartment,’ Damen said flatly. ‘The bathroom is across the hall, our room is at the end, and if the door is closed, do _not_ bother us.’

‘Understood,’ Jord nodded. ‘Thank you for letting me stay here, I really appreciate it, even after I was rude to you like that.’

‘Just don’t do it again, and we won’t have any problems,’ Laurent said. ‘We’ll let you settle in. Call if you need anything.’

‘Awesome, thanks,’ Jord said, as Damen and Laurent left for the kitchen.

_‘I still hate this,’_ Damen muttered, as he started to empty the dishwasher.

_‘I know,’_ Laurent said, taking plates and cups off him and putting them away. _‘It’s only for a week.’_

_‘A week is too long.’_

_‘We can always kick him out for a day.’_

_‘Or just kick him out to Nik’s house.’_

_‘Nik doesn’t deserve that.’_

_‘And I do?’_

_‘Two weeks of whatever you want,’_ Laurent said, wrapping his arms around Damen’s middle. _‘Remember that.’_

_‘That’s what will keep me going,’_ Damen sighed, turning around and folding Laurent into his arms. ‘I’m just being dramatic, we’ll be fine.’

‘He might not be,’ Laurent muttered. ‘If you’re going to make me be loud, he’ll leave here traumatised.’

‘Suffering in the face of his own perceived inadequacy, huh?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Hmm,’ Damen dropped a kiss to Laurent’s hair. ‘Maybe this _will_ be fun.’

‘I’m going to tell you this right now,’ Laurent said, looking up at Damen in suspicion. ‘We’re not getting into exhibitionism while he’s here.’

‘That leaves it open for when –’

‘Damen.’

Damen coughed. ‘Not the time, right.’

‘Right.’

‘I hope his apartment is ready in much less than a week.’

‘We’ll be fine,’ Laurent reassured him. ‘It’s just one week. We have the rest of our lives to make up for it.’

Damen smiled down at Laurent. ‘I suppose you’re right about that.’

‘You _suppose_ I’m right?’

‘You _are_ right.’

‘Thank you.’

Damen let out a sigh and stepped back from Laurent. ‘Okay, moving on from how my heart is _breaking_ right now, what do you want for dinner?’

‘I get to pick?’

‘Of course.’

‘You already made me lunch, though,’ Laurent said, sliding onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar, watching Damen across the bench. ‘You don’t need to cook dinner as well.’

‘Well, you’re not cooking,’ Damen said, leaning his elbows on the bench and looming over it towards Laurent.

‘Hey, I’m getting better.’

Damen leaned forward a little more, pushing himself into range to kiss the tip of Laurent’s nose. ‘I know you are, but I still want to cook for you.’

‘You’re such a mother hen.’

‘Ooh, are we going to start regurgitating food into each other’s mouths?’ Damen asked, head tilted. ‘That sounds fun and disgusting.’

‘We’re not going to do that no matter how funny you think it is, thank you. We’re not sharing chewed up food.’

‘You regularly kiss me after I’ve had my tongue in your ass, but you won’t share chewed up food?’

‘No,’ Laurent said flatly. ‘And those are not comparable situations.’

‘How so?’

‘Chewed food is not sexy.’

‘And ass tongue is?’

‘At least I know where my ass has been?’

Damen blinked at him. ‘Babe, if you watch me chew food that was on my plate only a few seconds earlier, you would have a much better idea of where that food has been.’

‘But it’s gross and wet and disgusting.’

‘Just like a tongue that’s recently been in your ass?’

Laurent groaned, pushing his head into the bench. ‘How is this a conversation we’re having?’ he asked, voice muffled as he squished his face under his arm. ‘Why are we going so in-depth here?’

‘Hey, you started it.’

‘I wish I hadn’t.’

‘So do I.’

Laurent poked his head out of his arm and towards the doorway where Jord was standing, his face slightly twisted in what was probably disgust. He wished he could go back to three seconds earlier when he’d forgotten Jord was in his house. ‘Oh,’ he said awkwardly, glancing towards Damen. ‘How long have you been there?’

‘Too long, I think,’ Jord blushed. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt.’

‘You should have,’ Damen said, sighing as he pushed up from the bench. ‘Some things should really stay between a couple, you know?’

‘Yeah,’ Jord hummed. ‘So, uh, I wanted to see what your plans for dinner were? I don’t have any food with me, so I was thinking about going out for dinner and stocking up tomorrow when the stores are open.’

‘There’s a 24-hour store just down the road.’

‘Right, yeah, I could do that, but I can’t be bothered right now,’ Jord shrugged. ‘Do you want to go out for dinner? Maybe I could pay or something as a thank you for letting me stay.’

Damen flicked his eyes to Laurent, probably weighing up how much he’d hate watching Jord make faces at Laurent across the table. ‘Where were you thinking?’

‘There’s a place about a ten or so minute walk from here, I think,’ Jord hummed. ‘Closer to the waterfront.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah, I walked past it a few days ago while I was exploring the city, and the menu looked really good. Maybe a few suspicious choices, but those can be avoided, right?’

‘Right,’ Damen agreed, even though suspicious combinations were some of his favourite things to try. ‘Laurent? What do you think?’

Laurent sighed, loving how Damen dropped the decision on him. He knew Damen would probably prefer to stay in, but the sound of some interesting foods would appeal to him. ‘I suppose. Saves Damen cooking twice in one day.’

‘Great!’ Jord beamed. ‘Shall we leave at about six? That gives us some time to get ready.’

‘Sure,’ Laurent said, standing from his stool. ‘Six it is.’

_‘I really hope,’_ Damen said in Akielon, as Jord disappeared, _‘that he’s not going to find ways to involve himself in everything while he’s here.’_

_‘He’s just doing something nice,’_ Laurent sighed. _‘One dinner won’t kill you. Or me.’_

_‘Why can’t he go out so we can have the place to ourselves like we should’ve?’_

_‘Because,’_ Laurent said, taking Damen’s hand and tugging him down the hall to their room, _‘we’re good people and good hosts. When he leaves, it’ll be even sweeter.’_

_‘What would’ve been sweet would be holing up for a week and spending the entire time naked and rolling around in front of the fire.’_

Laurent laughed. ‘Sounds like you really planned that out, huh?’ he asked, hunting around the room for something to wear.

‘My initial plan,’ Damen said, shutting their door and coming up behind Laurent, placing his hands on his hips, ‘was to stop past the store on the way home from your work for supplies.’

‘Supplies, huh?’ Laurent asked, ignoring how Damen pushed up his sweater to slip his hands underneath, continuing to search through his side of the wardrobe for a shirt.

Damen hummed, nosing aside the collar of Laurent’s sweater and kissing his exposed shoulder. ‘Mostly just ice cream and lube.’

‘You were going to make me live off ice cream and lube?’

‘Ice cream, lube, and the meat in my pants.’

‘Damen, I can’t believe you just said that,’ Laurent said, wrinkling his nose and glancing over his shoulder in mild disgust.

‘Yeah, didn’t think that one through at all,’ Damen wrapped his arms around Laurent instead, resting his head on his shoulder. ‘You said two weeks of whatever I want?’

‘Mm?’ Laurent frowned as Damen detached himself. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘Just here,’ Damen stood in front of his half of the wardrobe. ‘Pick a shirt.’

‘I’m looking at shirts.’

‘One of mine.’

Laurent bit his lip and crossed the few steps to stand beside Damen. ‘You want me to wear one of your shirts?’

‘Yes.’

‘They dwarf me.’

‘I know,’ Damen agreed. ‘It’s a good look.’

‘Can’t I have a sweater instead?’

‘You already wear loose sweaters. Shirts are a much more pointed statement.’

‘And what statement am I making?’ Laurent asked.

‘That you’re mine,’ Damen said simply. ‘Pick one.’

‘Which one do you think I would look best in?’

‘Any of them. You know I like when you wear my clothes.’

‘I thought you hated it,’ Laurent said, eyebrow raised as he accepted the plain white shirt Damen offered him.

‘No, I hate when you steal my last hoodie that hasn’t already mysteriously become integrated into your side of the wardrobe.’

Laurent hummed. ‘You’re right, it is very mysterious.’

‘You’re lucky you’re cute,’ Damen muttered, kissing Laurent’s hair. ‘We should get ready.’

‘Oh, look at you, being all responsible,’ Laurent said, lying the shirt on the bed as he pulled his sweater and t-shirt over his head and stepped into their bathroom to do his hair. His braid was looking a little worse for wear after the day he’d had.

‘I dare you to blow dry your hair and brush it out so it gets really fluffy,’ Damen said, sliding into the bathroom beside him to fix his own hair.

‘Are you saying that as part of your two weeks thing or are you just daring me?’

‘Well, you don’t have to, but you can if you want.’

‘Why would I want to do that?’

‘I think it would be funny.’

Laurent shot his husband a look in the mirror, making Damen giggle as he brushed his own hair and pulled half up into a bun. ‘I will politely decline your dare.’

‘That’s unfortunate,’ Damen said, still grinning.

‘But, if Jord wasn’t here and we were going to be inside for a week, I would’ve said yes.’

Damen groaned. ‘Now you’re just making it worse that I said he could stay.’

‘Could’ve said no.’

‘Not to your puppy eyes, I couldn’t have.’

Laurent made a small noise, pleased his sway over Damen persisted. ‘I’ll have to bring them out when I want things more often.’

‘Oh please, you know I’m powerless to say no to you.’

Laurent grinned, going up to his toes to kiss Damen happily. ‘Damen, I want to get a second house in the country so I can have horses.’

‘I –’ Damen pursed his lips, looking suspiciously at Laurent. ‘You’re dangerous.’

‘Is that a yes?’

‘That’s a get out of the bathroom before it becomes one.’

‘Can I at least get a horse and have it at Makedon’s farm? He boards horses, right?’

‘Laurent,’ Damen warned.

Laurent widened his eyes innocently. ‘I’m leaving the bathroom!’

As he took the shirt off the hanger, slipping his arms into the oversized sleeves and beginning to button it, he heard Damen from the bathroom say, ‘We’ll talk about the horse later.’

Laurent smiled to himself. _Powerless._

***

‘Have you guys been here before?’ Jord asked, stopping at the door to a very _particular_ restaurant and holding open the door for them. ‘The menu outside –’

‘Looked good but had some weird combinations,’ Damen completed. ‘You’ve mentioned.’

‘Did you book a table?’ Laurent asked, as they stopped at the empty maître d’s station to be directed to seating.

‘Oh, no, I didn’t think to do that,’ Jord said sheepishly.

Damen and Laurent exchanged a look, and Damen rolled his eyes, stepping behind the station to jump on the computer. He looked up and around for a moment, then came back. ‘Over here,’ he said, leading them to a table by the kitchens with a _reserved_ plaque on it.

‘We can’t sit here,’ Jord said, standing awkwardly as Damen and Laurent slid onto chairs.

‘It’s fine,’ Damen waved a hand as a server came over. ‘Vannes,’ he greeted. ‘How’s it going tonight?’

‘Good, not too busy, but busy enough. We didn’t know if you’d be in tonight or not.’

‘Ah, not our idea. I was happy to cook but we were… brought out.’

‘Well, it’s always good to have you stop in,’ she smiled. ‘Laurent, looking forward to the week off?’

Laurent shrugged. ‘I’ll miss the museum, but it’ll be nice to have a week with Damen.’

‘I bet,’ she winked. ‘The usual?’

‘Please,’ they said in unison, before the three of them looked to Jord, who finally sat down.

‘Order?’ Vannes asked.

‘Oh, uh,’ Jord picked up the menu and glanced through with a small furrow between his brows. ‘The – fish?’

‘The salmon, soup, or cod?’

‘Salmon, I think,’ Jord looked up to Damen and Laurent for approval, who nodded. ‘Salmon, yeah.’

‘Great. To drink?’

‘What alcohol do you pair with salmon?’

‘Red wine.’

‘Perfect.’

‘Which one?’

‘Uh…’ Jord switched out his menu for a drinks list, that furrow deepening as he looked at the prices.

‘Pick whichever,’ Damen said, stacking the menus for Vannes. ‘It’s fine.’

‘You’re not paying.’

‘I am.’

‘No, I said I’d take you out for dinner to say thank you –’

‘Except you picked the one restaurant in Ios that I own.’

Jord glanced up sharply. ‘Tell me you’re joking.’

‘He’s not,’ Vannes said, looking very much like she was enjoying this. ‘Damen is our dearly beloved boss, Laurent his even more dearly beloved husband.’

‘Told you they liked me more than you,’ Laurent said, elbowing Damen gently. ‘Jord, seriously, pick a wine, it’s fine.’

‘Great, a bottle of…’ Jord stabbed his finger at the list of reds. ‘That.’

‘Wonderful,’ Vannes said, scribbling his selection on her notepad. ‘That’ll be here shortly.’

‘Wonderful,’ Jord repeated flatly, handing her his menus.

_‘I don’t think he likes being shown up like that,’_ Laurent murmured to Damen, as Jord finally sat down.

_‘Well, he’ll have to get over it, he chose to eat here,’_ Damen replied, lacing their fingers together on the table. ‘So, Jord,’ Damen said pleasantly. ‘I’m sure Laurent got the story, but what brought you to Ios from… wherever you were?’

‘Arles,’ Jord said. ‘I’m a software engineer, I got hired by gaming company so I’m working on that for uh, the foreseeable future.’

‘Gaming?’ Damen asked, perking up. ‘That sounds awesome.’

‘Yeah, I don’t think the game is going to be very good, kinda just seems like another of those games where you steal cars. Nothing groundbreaking.’

‘Oh,’ Damen glanced to Laurent, and Laurent just _knew_ he was about to do something Laurent wouldn’t like. ‘How did you meet my husband?’

_There it is._ Laurent had told him earlier, surely, he couldn’t have imagined that conversation. ‘Damen –’

‘His brother set us up – you know Auguste?’ Jord interrupted. ‘Thought we’d be a good match.’

‘Yes, I know Auguste, my brother-in-law,’ Damen said drily. ‘Spoke to him earlier, in fact.’

‘Really?’ Jord asked.

‘I thanked him for sending you to the museum to flirt with my husband.’

‘Maybe he thought we might like to reconnect.’

‘I highly doubt he meant it the way you interpreted.’

Jord shrugged. ‘Maybe Auguste doesn’t like you. I’ve been friends with him for years.’

‘Yeah? So have I. I think I might be in slightly more regular contact with him, though.’

‘He wouldn’t have let me date Laurent if he didn’t like me.’

Laurent drummed the fingers of his unoccupied hand on the table, looking pointedly to Damen. _Don’t start shit._

Damen took a breath and promptly ignored Laurent’s polite and silent request. ‘Laurent picked me, though. We weren’t set up.’

‘He just needed a bit of nudging to see me as more than a friend,’ Jord said, ignoring that little fact. ‘You see, Laurent was a bit younger when we dated –’

‘It was two dates,’ Laurent protested, unable to hold his tongue any longer. ‘We didn’t _date_.’

‘– probably a virgin –’

‘We never had sex!’ Laurent hissed. ‘Jord, what the fuck?’

Jord blushed sheepishly. ‘Right, yeah, but –’

‘And I wasn’t a virgin either, not that it’s your business.’

_‘Should I get him kicked out?’_ Damen asked, apparently delighted at his husband’s burgeoning fury.

‘No, I want to see how big he can dig this hole before he remembers he’s a guest in my house,’ Laurent said coldly, making sure Jord could understand him.

Jord pursed his lips. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just –’

‘Are you trying to make me leave my husband for you? Is this some kind of pissing contest over who gets to have me?’ Laurent demanded. ‘Is this what I’m going to be subjected to for a week? You’ve barely opened your mouth since you’ve been here, and what little non-essential conversation you’ve been making has been about _me_ and how you _dated_ me.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ Jord said. ‘Calm down.’

Damen laughed. ‘Oh, well done.’

‘Calm down?’ Laurent repeated. ‘You want me to _calm down_? Jord, you’re staying in my house as a favour, so start picking your words a bit more carefully or that’s about to change. I don’t know what you’re trying to do by saying these things to my _husband_ about me, like you have some stupid little claim on me because you saw me first or whatever, but I am a grown man, and I’ve been making my own choices for a long time now, and you are not my choice. You were never a first choice, probably not even close to top five, so stop acting like I’m going to drop Damen for you, because you’ve decided _you_ are what I need in my life. Are we clear?’

Jord, now bright red, glanced around the tables near them, the patrons of which were sending interested little looks to them. ‘Laurent, I’m sorry, please don’t –’

‘Don’t what?’ Laurent asked. ‘I dare you to finish that sentence, Jord.’

Jord very wisely decided not to say anything.

‘Everything okay?’ Vannes asked, coming back to the table with a tray of drinks and basket of bread for the table.

‘Everything is fine,’ Damen said, still sounding a little too pleased with Laurent’s behaviour, but looking apologetically to the three tables close to them. ‘Could you please apologise to the tables near us for the disturbance and take care of their bills?’

Vannes frowned. ‘Did I miss something?’

‘Just a small something.’

Vannes sighed. ‘I hate missing things. I’ll get on those tables.’

‘Thank you,’ Damen said, as Vannes left to speak with the tables. He turned back to Laurent and Jord with a pleasant smile. ‘Now that’s cleared up, let’s eat some bread.’

Laurent glared at him, as he grabbed the bread and the small dish of olive oil, and started going through it. ‘Are you serious?’

_‘I did my rant, you did yours, hopefully he’s got his out of his system,’_ Damen shrugged. ‘Eat some bread, you’ll feel better,’ he said, handing him a chunk already dipped in the oil.

Laurent let out an angry breath, shoving the bread into his mouth. _‘He can pay for his own food,’_ he muttered darkly.

_‘We said we would,’_ Damen handed him more bread. _‘It’s fine.’_

_‘Now you’re fine?’_

_‘No, but I know you’ll play along when we get home. Unless you’re mad at me.’_

_‘I’m only mad at you for leading him into that argument.’_

_‘That’s fair.’_

‘You know, I don’t speak Akielon,’ Jord said quietly.

‘Yeah, we know,’ Damen replied.

Laurent rolled his eyes and picked up his phone, holding it at eye-height and hoping neither of them would start any more conversations. Thankfully, it was only a few minutes of awkward silence until Vannes came back with their meals, and the silence became less awkward and more respectful.

‘How’s your salmon?’ Damen asked, watching Jord over the table.

Jord nodded as he swallowed. ‘Yeah, it’s – nice.’

‘Nice?’

‘I don’t really get salmon very often, I’m not entirely sure what it’s supposed to taste like.’

‘Does it taste good?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Then it’s good, and that’s all.’

Jord nodded again, like a chastened child. ‘Okay.’

‘Laurent?’ Damen asked, gesturing to Laurent’s chicken with his fork. ‘Verdict?’

Laurent softened. He knew Damen deeply cared what he thought of his food, even if he pretended not to, even if he wasn’t the one who had cooked it. ‘Perfect,’ Laurent smiled. ‘Not as good as when you make it, but as close to.’

Damen preened a little at his words, bumping their knees together under the table. ‘As good as the first time you had it?’

‘Well, nothing ever beats a first taste, does it?’

‘I think _I’m_ getting better with age.’

‘We’re talking about food here, Damen.’

‘But I’m a snack.’

‘I know you are,’ Laurent said placatingly. _‘And I didn’t disagree.’_

Damen grinned. ‘I think we have mango sorbet at home.’

_‘Trying to recreate our first night together?’_

_‘Hopefully including the excellent sex.’_

‘I like mango sorbet,’ Jord said awkwardly.

‘I’m gonna tell you right now you don’t want to have any from that tub,’ Damen said, eyebrow raised meaningfully.

‘Damen!’ Laurent hissed, swatting at his shoulder.

‘I meant because we double dip our spoons into it!’ Damen paused thoughtfully. _‘Among other things.’_

_‘Disgusting.’_

‘Well, you’re the one married to me.’

‘Anyway,’ Laurent said, turning back to Jord. ‘We can stop past a store to get some mango sorbet if you want your own tub.’

‘I… sure.’

‘You can say no. We do have desserts here.’

‘No, it’s cool, we can go past a store.’

‘Great.’

***

The trip to the store was short and mostly uneventful.

Damen and Laurent led the way, hands held tightly between them as they went through the shop. They both had a tendency to wander to different aisles and get lost – Damen to the fresh produce or spices, and Laurent to the magazine racks to scour for anything history related – so they had agreed to hold onto each other so they wouldn’t have to keep calling the other to find them.

They determinedly walked past their favourite aisles to take Jord to the frozen desserts, when Damen’s eyes widened and he dropped Laurent’s hand, heading back into the rest of the store.

‘What are you doing?’ Laurent called.

Damen waved a hand back, disappearing around a corner.

Laurent rolled his eyes and turned to Jord. ‘You okay there?’

‘There are like, six different brands of sorbet here,’ Jord said, gesturing at the freezer. ‘Recommendation?’

‘That one,’ Laurent pointed to a minimalist yellow label. ‘It’s made just outside Ios, so it’s about as local as you can get. Damen has an agreement with the maker to have industrial sized tubs of it sent to the restaurant.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, he actually organised it for me,’ Laurent said, smiling a little at the memory of Damen announcing Laurent now had his own dessert at the restaurant. ‘Great anniversary gift.’

‘Which anniversary?’

‘First anniversary of, uh, the day we got together. Which was the same day I left Torveld and also the same day we met and promptly had dinner and dessert of mango sorbet in Damen’s apartment.’

‘Wow, a lot going on, huh?’

‘We fell fast and hard,’ Laurent shrugged. ‘When you know, you know, you know?’

Jord hummed. ‘Can we leave?’

‘No, we should really stay here, or he won’t find us again.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, he’ll get back even–’

‘Sorry!’ Damen said, bursting from the end of the aisle beside them. ‘Got it.’

‘Got what?’ Laurent asked, as they headed to check out.

‘What you were saying last night we were out of.’

Laurent frowned, thinking back to any conversations they’d had last night when he remembered a conversation from their bedroom last night. ‘Oh.’

‘Also, I got some more cinnamon sticks and cloves, because Hennike sent me another recipe and I keep forgetting them.’

‘Naturally,’ Laurent said drily. ‘What a combination.’

‘What, cinnamon sticks and cloves?’ Jord asked, cradling his tub of sorbet.

‘Cinnamon sticks, cloves, and lube,’ Damen said, dropping his things at a self-service checkout and starting to scan them, as Jord blushed and headed across to another empty one.

‘I’m glad you remembered that,’ Laurent muttered, watching Damen take out his card to tap it on the card reader. ‘Would’ve killed the mood to have to run out to get some.’

‘Oh, baby, no, olive oil is okay in a pinch.’

Laurent raised an eyebrow as they collected their items. ‘Yes, I remember.’

Damen grinned, shoving the lube in his coat pocket and taking Laurent’s hand as they headed to meet Jord at the exit. ‘It can stain though.’

‘We were already in the kitchen that time, I don’t think it mattered.’

Damen made a noise of agreement, then somehow, none of them bothered to break the silence on the short walk back to the apartment. Once inside, with the door safely closed and locked, Damen decided to change that. ‘So,’ he said, dropping his keys in the bowl by the door. ‘Jord.’

‘Yeah?’ Jord asked warily, following Laurent to the kitchen for a spoon and a marker to label his tub of sorbet.

‘Any plans for the week?’

‘Not really, why? I was thinking I’d mostly just stay here and watch Netflix.’

‘Not taking part in any of the festivities? There’s ice skating, winter markets, free entry to a few exhibitions in the museums around town.’

‘Oh, yeah, not really my thing,’ Jord shrugged, scooping a spoonful of sorbet into his mouth. ‘This is really good.’

Damen hummed as he came to stand beside Laurent at the kitchen bench, pointedly taking the lube from his coat and putting it on the counter. ‘Maybe it should become your thing?’

Jord’s eyes drifted to the bottle, then back up to Damen. ‘I don’t –’

‘Jord, I’m going to be as clear here as I possibly can,’ Damen said. ‘Laurent and I planned to be in the apartment _alone_ for the whole week. We can’t do that while you’re here. Do you understand?’

‘Do you want… me to go?’

‘Sometimes,’ Laurent said, jumping in before Damen could say anything. ‘We need the apartment for at least a few hours each day.’

‘A few hours?’

‘At least.’

Jord flicked his eyes back to the lube, then up to Damen and Laurent. ‘That’s… a long time.’

‘No, a week without sex with my husband is a long time,’ Damen said flatly. ‘You live in Ios now, go out and explore it instead of being in my house, watching Netflix on the other side of the wall to my bedroom.’

‘What if I don’t –’

‘Let’s put it this way,’ Damen interrupted. ‘This is our house and we’ll do what we want. How much you want to hear is entirely up to you.’

Jord cleared his throat, poking at his sorbet. ‘Right.’

‘So, Ios. You can find lists of activities on the internet, and GPS is amazing.’

‘Got it, thanks,’ Jord said awkwardly, standing and closing his sorbet. ‘I think I’m going to take a shower. Where should I put the sorbet?’

‘I’ll put it in the freezer, probably second shelf,’ Laurent said, taking the tub and Jord’s spoon, dropping it into the sink. ‘Night, then.’

‘Yep, night,’ Jord said, heading out of the kitchen.

‘Did you have to be so obvious?’ Laurent muttered, closing the freezer and following Damen to their bedroom, flicking lights off as they went.

‘Yes,’ Damen said, tossing the lube onto their bed as he went to hang their coats in the wardrobe. ‘Was that a conversation you wanted to have?’

‘I’m sure I could’ve been a little more subtle.’

Damen turned, leaning in the doorway to the wardrobe as he watched Laurent sit to untie his shoes. ‘Are you still mad at me?’

‘This whole night turned into the two of you fighting over me, or me fighting Jord, and it’s just… I can fight my own battles, Damen, especially when it comes to things like that.’

Damen sighed, coming to sit beside him to deal with his own shoes. ‘I know, baby, but you don’t have to.’

‘You don’t need to fight Jord for me, like _for_ me. I’m not a prize to be won.’

‘I know. I’m sorry if anything I said tonight was…’

‘It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it in a way to take my agency or anything,’ Laurent said, knocking their shoulders together. ‘But I meant what I said earlier. Jord’s no competition for you in any way, shape, or form. I married _you_ and I intend to keep it that way.’

‘Good,’ Damen said, nosing Laurent’s cheekbone and kissing his jaw, before he dropped his head to Laurent’s shoulder. ‘It’s been an exhausting night.’

‘I know,’ Laurent sighed, lifting his shoulder gently to move Damen’s head, before he shifted to straddle him instead, knees on the bed behind Damen and arms around his neck. ‘But was it too exhausting for “I’m a little mad at you” sex?’

Damen made a noise of interest as his hands came to rest on Laurent’s ass. ‘You know I said I wanted you to make noise.’

Laurent raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes.’

‘Haven’t we tortured Jord enough for the night?’

‘He might take your suggestion to leave the apartment for a few hours seriously. Besides, you didn’t say it had to be _loud_ noise.’

‘I thought it was implied.’

‘Hmm,’ Laurent drummed his fingers on Damen’s shoulder blades. ‘Fine.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m nothing if not accommodating.’

Damen hummed as Laurent kissed him, moving onto his back and having Laurent hover over him. ‘Like this.’

‘You want me to ride you?’

‘Like I said, it’s been an exhausting night.’

‘Cheater. We both know you won’t last like that,’ Laurent murmured against his lips. ‘You like fucking me too much.’

‘Like this?’ Damen asked, flipping Laurent onto his back and caging him in his arms. ‘We both know you like it when I do that.’

Laurent laughed, pulling him down for another kiss. ‘I suppose I do.’

‘You do,’ Damen ducked down to kiss him again. ‘I’m going to shut the door and when I get back, you better be naked.’

‘Oh, really? What if I’m not?’

‘You know that thing I do with my mouth?’

‘You do so many things with your mouth.’

‘Maybe I won’t do any of them for a while.’

Laurent gasped in faux horror. ‘That’s cruel.’

‘Uh huh,’ Damen kissed him one more time. ‘Actually, maybe leave the shirt.’

‘You really have a thing about me in your shirts, huh?’

‘They look good on you,’ Damen said, rolling off Laurent and starting on his own clothes as he went to the door.

Laurent slid off the bed, pushing his slacks and boxers to a pile on the floor, leaving him in just the shirt as he went to the bathroom to brush his hair for the night. He didn’t know why. He knew it would just be messy again by the time he went to sleep.

‘Where did you go?’ Damen asked from the bedroom.

‘Damen, I have the light on in here, it should be pretty obvious,’ Laurent said, wetting a cloth to wash his face quickly.

‘Oh, hello,’ Damen said, poking in through the doorway. ‘Well, I guess you win.’

‘Hygiene is important, Damianos.’

‘Sure, but are you going to come to bed?’

Laurent tilted his head and turned around, leaning against the counter. ‘Eventually.’

‘Are we going to fuck in the bathroom? Not sure your knees will thank you for this floor.’

‘Neither will yours.’

‘Exactly. Bed?’

Laurent looked Damen over, naked and waiting in the doorway. ‘Make me.’

Damen raised an eyebrow, stepping into the bathroom. ‘You just want me to carry you, don’t you?’

‘I wouldn’t object.’

Damen stopped in front of him, letting out a breath as he slipped his hands under the shirt to Laurent’s hips. ‘I indulge you too much.’

Laurent laced his fingers behind Damen’s neck, humming as Damen slid his hands down to Laurent’s thighs, lifting him and taking him to the bed. ‘What were you saying earlier about being powerless to me asking for things?’

‘You’ve known that for years,’ Damen said, grabbing the lube from where he’d put it on a side table. ‘Are you going to bring up the horse again?’

‘I wasn’t going to, but now that you have…’ Laurent trailed off with a little gasp as Damen pressed a slick finger into him. ‘Shall we talk horses?’

Damen was quiet for a few moments, just moving his finger in and out before he added a second. ‘What if I said I already had one at Makedon’s?’

‘For yourself?’

‘No, for you.’

‘You bought me a horse?’

‘Baby, I know you well enough to know you want a horse. Early anniversary present.’

‘Really?’ Laurent bit his lip as Damen curled his fingers inside him.

‘Really,’ Damen agreed. ‘So, you see, maybe I’m not entirely powerless, maybe I’m also intuitive.’

Laurent hummed, shifting a little as Damen moved to add a third finger. It seemed he was very intent on going slow today, despite his claim of being exhausted. But then again, Laurent knew Damen would make all the time in the world to get Laurent comfortable, even if he was seconds away from falling asleep.

‘You good?’ Damen asked after a few minutes.

‘I’m good,’ Laurent confirmed, pushing Damen’s shoulder to get him on his back, and climbing on top of him. He reached for the lube, before thinking better of it and unbuttoning the lower half of his shirt instead.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Being efficient,’ Laurent said, tying the loose ends in a knot over his stomach so they wouldn’t get in the way. ‘Don’t worry, the shirt is staying.’

‘Good,’ Damen said, smoothing his hands over Laurent’s thighs as he reached back to slick up Damen and direct him to his hole.

Laurent planted a hand between Damen’s legs to steady himself as he breached and lowered himself slowly, drawing a loud moan from Damen. ‘What was that for?’ he asked, once he settled.

Damen grinned, tapping his fingers on Laurent’s hips. ‘Maybe it was just because that was really good.’

‘You didn’t do that for my benefit.’

‘Maybe I should more often.’

‘You’re a terrible host.’

‘I’m a terrible host to people who you dated.’

‘We didn’t _date_ , we went on two dates, I’ve told you that.’

‘You also told me that he was rude and insulted you after you made it clear you weren’t going to,’ Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘And yet, he’s in my house.’

‘I don’t have to like him to have sympathy for his situation,’ Laurent said, rolling his hips a little. ‘Now, are you going to stop talking about him?’

Damen slowly licked his lower lip. ‘Make me.’

‘Fine.’ Laurent leaned forward, kissing over Damen’s chest up to his mouth, putting it to better use for a moment, until he pulled back and put his hand over Damen’s mouth instead. ‘Be quiet.’

Damen’s eyes darkened and he clenched his fingers on Laurent’s hips pointedly. _Fine._

Laurent started moving properly then, raising and lowering himself along the length of Damen’s cock, ignoring the grunts and noises Damen was making against his hand. He closed his eyes with a sigh, grinding against Damen’s hips as he came back down. ‘Are you going to be polite?’ he asked, taking his hand off Damen’s mouth.

‘I’m always polite,’ Damen said, voice gravelly.

Laurent hummed, putting his hands behind himself again to change his angle a little. ‘That’s a lie.’

‘Oh?’

‘You’ve been rude to Jord the whole day,’ Laurent said, raising himself and slamming back down, pulling a groan from Damen as he stifled his own.

‘I paid for his dinner.’

Laurent did it again, Damen’s fingers tightening on his hips. ‘Then blatantly discussed our sex life while he was just trying to have some sorbet.’

‘I forgot you don’t like that.’

‘You didn’t forget.’

Damen laughed as Laurent did it a third time. ‘I love when you’re mad.’

‘Maybe I should stop being mad.’

‘Maybe you should start being loud.’

Laurent draped himself over Damen’s chest, twisting his fingers into his hair, before repeating their phrase of the night. ‘Make me,’ he whispered.

Damen wrapped an arm around Laurent’s waist as he pushed himself to sit. ‘What happened to “I’ll do all the work”?’ he muttered, flipping them so Laurent was on his back.

‘Oh, come on, we both know you’re impatient and don’t mind,’ Laurent said, hooking one leg around Damen’s hip and the other around the back of a thigh.

‘Don’t call me out like that,’ Damen said. ‘Call out… not like that.’

‘That was a good one,’ Laurent said, biting his lip out of habit as Damen started moving.

‘Nope, nuh uh, none of that. We had an agreement.’

‘Oh, _fuck_ you,’ Laurent gasped, as Damen slid out and all the way back in with one fluid movement. ‘That’s cheating.’

‘It’s not,’ Damen laughed, doing it again and enjoying the way Laurent groaned and immediately glared at him afterwards. ‘Now,’ he said, leaning in to whisper in Laurent’s ear, ‘don’t hold back.’

‘I hate you.’

‘You don’t.’

‘You’re right,’ Laurent dug his fingers into Damen’s back as he picked up the pace. ‘I don’t.’

Damen just grinned and kept going, knowing exactly how to get what he wanted from Laurent. It didn’t take long before he was making all sorts of very loud noises, apparently too carried away with indulging Damen’s want for it that he didn’t even notice the mark Damen was sucking up on the junction of his neck and shoulder, shirt collar nudged aside.

‘Gods – _fuck_ ,’ Laurent gasped. ‘Damen, Damen, Damen.’

‘Mm?’ Damen moved to Laurent’s lips, swallowing his moans.

‘Damen,’ Laurent broke off, ‘I’m close.’

‘Then come.’

‘You first,’ Laurent ground out.

Damen rested his forehead on Laurent’s shoulder, slowing a little as he did just that, and laughing as Laurent came with the loudest, fakest moan he possibly could. ‘You’re so dramatic,’ he said, kissing Laurent’s jaw and moving off him.

Laurent flipped him off while he caught his breath, rolling to his side and draping a leg over Damen’s thighs. ‘You asked for it,’ he said, looking up. ‘Surely he would’ve heard _that_.’

‘Baby, that sounded so fake it probably defeats the purpose,’ Damen said, voice fond. ‘He probably thinks I’m terrible in bed as well now.’

Laurent made a considering noise. ‘You’re terrible and you’re in bed, so yes, you’re terrible in bed.’

‘That might be the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.’

Laurent laughed, kissing Damen’s chest and sitting up with a slight grimace. ‘Hmm.’

‘What is it?’

‘I want sorbet.’

‘What’s that face for?’

‘I’m a mess.’

‘I’m fairly sure Jord will be in his room and avoiding coming out until the morning,’ Damen said with a small shrug, folding his arms under his head. ‘Make a run for it?’

Laurent stood off the bed with a sigh, unknotting the shirt so it came down to the tops of his thighs again. At least he’d be a little more covered if he did happen to run into their guest, even if the shirt didn’t cover _everything_. ‘You want me to bring the tub and a spoon for you?’ Laurent asked, heading for the door.

‘That would be great, thank you.’

Laurent cracked open the door and peered into the hallway – the bathroom door was open and Jord’s was closed, so he figured Damen was right, and headed to the kitchen.

It was weird, he was certain they’d turned off all the lights before heading to their room.

Oh.

Jord’s eyes went much wider than Laurent thought possible when he saw him come into the kitchen. Jord steadfastly looked back to his tub of sorbet. ‘Sorry, I don’t – I didn’t want to…’

Laurent ignored the blush he could feel building in his cheeks and tugged down the hem of the shirt as he walked past. ‘Didn’t want to what?’ he asked, opening the freezer door to yank their sorbet from the top shelf, then grabbing two spoons from the cutlery drawer.

‘I didn’t want to… intrude,’ Jord said glancing up and immediately back down.

Laurent hummed. ‘You were on the other side of the wall.’

‘You’re very vocal.’

‘Yeah,’ Laurent agreed. He froze as he felt Damen’s come drip out of him and down onto his thigh. ‘I need to go.’

‘Oh, okay –’

‘Yep, sorbet’s going to melt,’ Laurent said loudly, leaving the kitchen as fast as he could. ‘Turn the light off when you leave!’

He slammed the bedroom door shut and tossed the sorbet and spoons at Damen as he went to the bathroom to clean himself quickly.

‘What was that for?’ Damen asked, searching for a second spoon on the bed as Laurent came back.

‘Usually I don’t care if you come in me,’ Laurent said, dropping himself on the bed and grabbing the spoon from where it was by Damen’s ankle.

‘Today’s the exception because...?’

‘It made its reappearance while I was in the kitchen,’ Laurent popped the lid off the sorbet and dug his spoon in, ‘talking to Jord.’

‘Jord?’ Damen repeated, watching his husband shove the spoon into his mouth. ‘He was up?’

‘Eating sorbet!’ Laurent said, grimacing through the brain freeze. ‘Would’ve been less mortifying for you to go out there, ass naked.’

‘Less mortifying for you, you mean?’

‘Yes, exactly,’ Laurent agreed, gesturing at Damen with his spoon. ‘Maybe if he gets a look at you, he’ll leave sooner.’

‘You think I can scare him off with my dick?’ Damen asked drily.

‘Well, either that or he’ll want to jump on it.’

‘A valid excuse for a married man like myself to kick out a house guest.’

‘Exactly.’

‘You’re a horrible person.’

Laurent smiled, sliding more sorbet into his mouth. ‘And you’re married to me.’

Damen sighed, a dopey smile on his face. ‘Fuck, dude, I sure am.’

‘Sappy bastard.’

Damen leaned over to kiss him, all mango and sugar. ‘Yeah.’

***

‘Morning, husband.’

Laurent sighed and pushed further back into Damen’s chest. ‘No, shut up.’

‘That’s not very nice.’

‘I want to sleep in.’

Damen nuzzled into Laurent’s hair, probably turning it into something akin to a bird’s nest. ‘We can’t, we have a house guest.’

Laurent groaned, folding his pillow back up and over his face. ‘Why did you have to bring that up?’ he said, voice almost inaudible.

‘I’m a good host.’

‘That’s a lie.’

Damen huffed a laugh, pushing the pillow away and turning Laurent around in his arms. ‘Want to help me be an even worse host?’

‘If you’re about to suggest morning sex, I would love to, but absolutely not.’

‘What? Why not?’

‘Jord doesn’t deserve to be woken up like that.’

Damen kissed Laurent’s forehead, gently rolling him to his back and hovering over him. ‘But maybe you do.’

‘I’m already awake,’ Laurent frowned.

‘Would you like to be _more_ awake?’ Damen asked, sliding down the bed and looking up to Laurent pointedly.

Laurent narrowed his eyes, even as he shifted his legs so Damen could settle between them. ‘Is this the opposite of last night? Wanted to see how loud I could be and now you’re challenging me to be quiet?’

Damen grinned. ‘If that’s how you want to see it.’

‘I hate you.’

‘I’m sure.’

***

Damen didn’t know what he’d been expecting from Laurent, but he probably should’ve known it would be absolute silence, except for the few small keening noises he made whenever Damen took him deep into his throat.

They went to breakfast as usual, after they’d both slipped on some kind of pants, and found the kitchen empty, thankfully.

‘Coffee?’ Damen asked, as Laurent adjusted the temperature of the heater and stood directly in the path of the warm air.

‘I think tea today, please.’ Laurent’s voice was soft, and Damen turned to watch him sway under the heater as he flicked on the kettle for the water.

Sometimes it really caught Damen off-guard to remember he was married to Laurent. He didn’t like to think or speak in such possessive terms, but Laurent was _his_ and _no one else’s_ , and he was the only one who got to see him like this; loose and warm and happy, wearing a huge woollen cardigan and pyjama shorts printed with schnauzers.

‘What?’ Laurent asked, heading over from the heater and planting himself in front of Damen.

Damen bit back a smile, but quickly gave up and let it take over. ‘You’re so beautiful.’

‘Oh, Damen, don’t –’

‘No, I just – it still seems so wild that you picked me.’

Laurent’s eyes softened as he looped his arms around Damen’s neck, the caress of soft wool sending shivers down his spine. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘Why did you?’

‘I like being treated like a person,’ Laurent said. ‘You liked every part of me without question.’

Damen lifted Laurent gently to set him on the counter, letting himself be pulled in by Laurent’s legs. ‘Of course I did.’

Laurent smiled, leaning in to kiss him, their lips barely touching before the kettle clicked off and Laurent moved back again. ‘Tea?’

Damen sighed, resting his head on Laurent’s shoulder for a second. ‘Tea,’ he agreed, grabbing two mugs and a couple of vanilla rooibos tea bags from the shelf, pouring water over them and letting them steep. ‘Breakfast requests?’

Laurent hummed, swinging his legs idly. ‘Do you want to make those yogurt and granola whatevers?’

Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘Parfait?’

‘Please?’

‘Sure. Pass me a couple of bananas.’

Laurent grinned triumphantly, reaching across to the fruit bowl and apparently seeing Jord’s door swing open. _‘Incoming,’_ he whispered.

Damen looked up from where he was scavenging in the fridge, just in time to see Jord pop into the kitchen. He ignored him and kept sliding ingredients onto the bench, until he turned and grabbed the bananas Laurent was sizing up to throw across the kitchen. ‘No,’ he said, like he was speaking to a toddler. ‘Morning, Jord.’

‘Morning,’ Jord said, taking a seat on the other side of the bench. ‘What are you making?’

‘Laurent wants parfait for breakfast,’ Damen placed a couple of bowls on the bench. ‘Do you –’

‘Ah, no, thanks, not a fan of… that,’ Jord said. ‘Any coffee?’

‘Tea today.’

‘I don’t drink tea.’

‘Unfortunate,’ Laurent said lightly, as Damen fished out the tea bags and added sugar, passing Laurent his mug.

‘Where can I get breakfast around here?’

‘The shop down the street. There are a couple of bakeries and cafés that should be open though,’ Damen glopped yogurt into the bowls. ‘Adelina’s is really good, especially around this time. The fresh breads, their coffee, the uh – babe, what are they called? Those other things I like?’

‘Those really flaky ones?’ Laurent asked, humming thoughtfully. ‘No idea.’

‘Brilliant, thanks,’ Damen said drily. ‘Yeah, Adelina’s.’

‘Okay, great,’ Jord said, clearing his throat. ‘Uh, so I’ll be leaving today.’

‘For how long?’ Damen asked. ‘So we can plan accordingly.’

‘Permanently. My apartment is ready.’

Laurent’s eyebrows rose as he sipped his tea, sharing a look with Damen.

‘Wow, really?’ Damen said, trying to keep his voice under control. ‘That’s, wow – yeah, okay.’

‘I know you hate having me here, it’s for the best,’ Jord said, pushing to stand from the bench. ‘Sorry for being an imposition.’

‘Only an imposition when you try to fuck my husband,’ Damen said, smiling and gesturing at Laurent with the knife he was using to cut fruit.

Jord coughed and nodded once. ‘I can only apologise so many times for that.’

‘I didn’t get him the most subtle of rings,’ Damen’s tone was still far too cheery for the threatening way he was holding the knife.

Jord looked Damen over – the bare chest, the lowly hung sweatpants – and glanced to Laurent, apparently thinking better of it. ‘Yeah, I don’t think he would have ever gone for me.’

‘Oh? What makes you say that?’

‘You have a lot of abs, and apparently you’re…’ Jord trailed off, looking back to Laurent and down to the bench to – Laurent’s ass?

_Ah._ ‘Did you happen to watch my husband as he left the kitchen last night?’

‘Are you going to throw that knife at me if I say yes?’

‘So that’s a yes.’

‘I’ll get my stuff and call a ride.’

‘I think that’s a very good idea.’

_‘You didn’t need to hold the knife like that,’_ Laurent said, putting down his tea and taking the parfait Damen handed him.

_‘I like to keep people on their toes,’_ Damen shrugged, passing him a spoon as well. ‘Gotta get my kicks where I can. I’m usually in kitchens where _everyone_ has a knife.’

‘You’re ridiculous.’

_‘Hey, that’s our butt he was looking at. It’s a nice butt, but it’s our butt.’_

_‘Our butt?’_

_‘To look at. Your butt, but ours collectively to admire.’_

Laurent raised an eyebrow but said nothing, scooping parfait into his mouth instead.

Damen wondered if Jord had actually ever needed to stay at the apartment, because when he emerged a few minutes later, everything was already packed, and he looked far too put together for someone who only just found out they had somewhere to live.

Laurent was still finishing off his breakfast, so Damen walked him to the door, narrowing his eyes when Jord glanced back wistfully at Laurent, just visible from the door.

‘Thank you for letting me stay,’ Jord said, hefting his backpack up his shoulder. ‘I know you didn’t want me here.’

‘Oh?’

‘You’ve made it very clear I wasn’t welcome –’

‘No, you were welcome,’ Damen interrupted. ‘You just needed to adjust your expectations.’

‘In what way?’

‘What you wanted with Laurent. What you thought we would or wouldn’t do in our own home, how we would or wouldn’t act with you around,’ Damen unlocked the door, opening it pointedly. ‘This is just how we are, and I won’t apologise.’

Jord nodded and stepped out of the door, stopping with one suitcase still on the threshold. Damen wished he’d just _leave_. ‘I did have a chance, you know. Once upon a time.’

‘Two dates, was it?’ Damen asked. ‘I don’t want to talk myself up, but Laurent was with someone else for two years, and he still ended up with me. Be glad whatever horrible thing between you wasn’t dragged out that far.’

‘It wasn’t horrible,’ Jord protested, ‘not for me.’

‘Yeah, but it takes two people to be in a relationship, doesn’t it?’ Damen shrugged. ‘Not just your opinion that matters.’

‘He –’

‘Safe travels to your apartment,’ Damen smiled, not giving him the chance to start something else. ‘Enjoy Ios.’

Jord shut his mouth and finally – _finally_ – finished walking out the door, letting Damen close and lock it behind him.

Damen let out a breath, letting his shoulders relax for the first time since yesterday morning. It was weird it had only been one day, when Jord had caused so much… drama. Damen hadn’t realised he was tense, and he sagged against Laurent’s chest when he came back to the kitchen.

‘You okay?’ Laurent asked, wrapping his arms around Damen’s shoulders.

Damen made a little _ugh_ noise into Laurent’s sweater. ‘Please don’t have any guests over for a while.’

‘I hadn’t planned on it.’

‘I can’t tell you how relieved I am.’

Laurent laughed, kissing Damen’s temple and nudging him gently to look up. ‘You know what this means?’

‘What?’

‘We still have the week to ourselves.’

That perked Damen up. ‘We do,’ he agreed slowly. ‘The whole week.’

‘The _whole_ week,’ Laurent repeated. ‘We have enough food to last the day?’

‘Yeah.’

Laurent grinned and slid down from the bench, placing his hands lightly on Damen’s hips and going onto his toes to brush his lips along his jaw. ‘I’ll race you to the bedroom,’ he whispered, before slipping from between Damen and the counter and disappearing from the kitchen.

Damen blinked, looking after him. ‘That’s cheating!’

Laurent’s laugh echoed down the hall. ‘I’m sure I’ll make it up to you!’

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, thank u for reading! and also as usual - my [twitter](http://twitter.com/daamiaanos), where i run fun polls (like the one that got this published) and tweet stupid shit like, all the time // my [tumblr](http://damiaanos.tumblr.com) where i am apparently thirst reblogging every gifset of henry cavill/geralt of rivia that my goblin eyes stumble upon :^)


End file.
